My mother’s death occurred almost fifteen years before I learned about it. Her death was a news story. Murdered by a stalker while she lived in Miami. It occurred, of all days, on my ninth birthday, with me thankfully unaware. My mother was a stranger to me—both because of her absence and because of her… Continue reading Two Deaths and a Parking Lot
How Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time gave me hope as a child in the midst of family crisis.